


The Weasley Boys' Smut-Fest

by almondjoyz



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bondage, Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Erotica, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Heterosexual Sex, The Quidditch Pitch: Erotic Couplings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-04-25
Updated: 2007-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-27 11:15:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10807944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/almondjoyz/pseuds/almondjoyz
Summary: A collection of six stories, focusing on the wedding nights of the six Weasley boys.





	1. Bill--August 1997

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

_August 1997, a hotel room in London  
_

Finally, it was over. The crowds. The dancing. The photographs. The fussing by his mother. It was all said and done. 

It was just them. Alone, the way it should be.

Bill Weasley sat on the bed, wearing the silk pyjama bottoms Fleur'd given him as a gift, twiddling his thumbs and tapping his toes. He had no clue as to why he was nervous; he was no inexperienced school boy, that was for sure. He was nearly twenty-seven years old, for Merlin's sake, and had his fair share of dalliances over the years. And it wasn't as if he and Fleur had never been together. He smiled as he remembered their first time, Valentine's Day of '96. It wasn't her first time, he was surprised to learn, but was grateful for what little experience she did have. He hated the shyness and awkwardness of being with at virgin. Sex with Fleur was incredible, he had to admit, and when she talked dirty in French, there was little he could do to control himself. 

He reached up absently to scratch his face and his finger fell into the ravine of one of the scars he'd had for a few months. Pomfrey was correct in her theory that they would never quite heal. They had, at least, stopped oozing and had begun to knit together to some degree. He still hadn't got used to them and doubted he ever would. Fleur seemed nonplussed about them. She went on as is they were nonexistent, loving him completely and unconditionally. She wasn't in denial or anything. They'd talked enough about them and she maintained that it didn't matter one bloody bit. He'd never forget the scene in the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts when Fleur had snatched the ointment from his mother and insisted that they would be married and that there was nothing Mum could have done to stop them. 

Bill looked up at the bathroom door, wondering what was taking Fleur so long. She'd been in there for nearly twenty minutes. Not hearing water or anything else, he decided to get up off the bed and see what was up.

"Fleur, honey?" he said to the door. "Fleur, you okay?"

"I...I'm fine, Bill. Ju...just give me a minute." 

_Was she crying?_

"Love, you've been in there for almost twenty minutes," he said, his voice low and full of concern.

"What? Oh...in that case..." Her voice drifted off and he heard the click of the lock and saw the doorknob turn. The door opened and there she stood, her hair, which was curled in intricate swirls for the wedding was now straight and hung to the middle of her back. She wore a white lacy piece of lingerie that fell to just above her knees and the bodice was cut to show a generous amount of décolletage. Underneath the see-through baby doll, was a scrap of material that he secretly hoped was a thong. She had a great arse. He looked closer and noticed a charm that hung from the middle of the panties---a golden heart with a shiny stone in the middle.

"Uh...wow." His mouth was suddenly dry and he really didn't care why she was in the bathroom for twenty minutes anymore.

"You like?" The side of her mouth tilted up in a half-smile as she cocked her head to one side. Then she twirled around and the material swung up a bit. Sure enough, she was wearing a thong. "What have you got on your mind?"

"It's not what's on my mind that I'm concerned with." He closed the distance between them and pulled her to his chest, his mouth finding hers and his tongue delving into hers with abandon. Her tongue tasted sweet like éclairs and champagne. She was good enough to eat.

"Oh, your mouth is delicious," she moaned, sending tingles up and down his spine. That always happened when she spoke French and he kissed her again, harder than before. Their teeth clashed against one another's and Bill growled. He bit her bottom lip and tasted the coppery blood that dripped out.

"Fuck, Fleur." He growled again and picked her up, putting her legs around his waist. He grabbed her arse cheeks and squeezed them hard, silently hoping that he'd leave a mark. She liked that sometimes.

"Make me scream, lover," she said as she kissed him. " _Tu connais ce que je voulais."_

"You know what French does to me...More..." he begged, ripping the tiny thong that gave absolutely no resistance at all.

" _Mets ton bouche sur moi_.." 

Bill threw her onto the bed and grinned wickedly as her legs spread apart to show her freshly shaven pussy. That's what she was doing in there, bless her wicked, little French heart. He crawled across the bed and shoved the lacy baby doll up to her armpits and dove right in, attaching his mouth to her breast and reaching down between her legs with one hand and putting his other on her backside to hold her still.

As he continued to suck on her breast, his fingers of his left hand went inside her, evoking a rich, deep laugh from Fleur's throat. Bill loved hearing her laugh, especially during sex. She never laughed at him per se; she laughed when he didn't give her what she wanted right away.

" _Vilain! Pas les doigts!_ I need your fucking mouth!" 

She put her hands on his head and pulled his lips from her body, pushing his head down her body to the juncture of her thighs.

"Say 'please.' Say it! Beg!"

" _S'il vous plait_..."

At the sound of her native tongue, he growled again and withdrew his fingers from her body and placed his open mouth on her sex and began to suck her swollen clit. She arched her back in pleasure as his tongue circled the bundle of nerves and moaned again. His fingers returned to the slickness of her body, tickling her until he found the right spot and she squirmed in response. Her hips rose from the bed and brought his mouth further into her, filling his nostrils with her sexy scent.

Bill had never felt so hard in his life. The loose pyjama bottoms, while loose when standing, were tight as he lay on the bed and the smoothness of the silk felt too much like the inside of her body. His breathing increased as he continued to lap up her juices until he could bear it no more. Off came the pyjamas and he slid up her body until he was looking down at her. Her eyes were closed and her mouth was open. There was a light sheen of sweat on her forehead and her skin was flushed pink.

"I want you, Bill! Now!" 

Bill took hold of himself and guided his cock inside her hot, slick body, his moans mingling with hers. "Fuck," he moaned as he held pushed himself on his hands, feeling himself plunge deeper inside her.

" _Plus dur_!"

He groaned and thrust harder inside her.

" _Plus vite!_ "

Bill growled as he increased the rhythm of his thrusts, her hips meeting every one of his own thrusts. She squeezed her muscles around him and his eyes rolled back in his head, it felt so good. She repeated the squeezing and was milking him for all he was worth. It was brilliant.

Fleur wrapped her legs around him and gave him one final squeeze before he began short, hard thrusts that brought about the most tremendous scream from her as she came hard. Bill's own climax carried him along with her and her howled into the dark of the room.

He fell onto her, his body continuing to pulse, and peppered her neck and jaw with kisses and stroked her hair. With the slightest push against his chest, she signaled to him to roll off and he reluctantly did so, withdrawing from her luscious body. Once on his back, he gathered her to his chest and wrapped his arms protectively around her.

" _Je taime, Monsieur_ Beel," she teased, using the name she called him when they were dating.

He chuckled into her ear and ran his tongue around the flesh of her earlobe. "Don't kill me tonight, love. You know what French does to me."

At that, Fleur wrapped her upper leg around his hip and pulled him toward her body. "No. I want you very much... _vivant!_ "


	2. Charlie--January 1999

_January 1999, a cottage in Sweden_

 

Charlie wore a broad smile on his face as he entered the bedroom carrying his wife. The smile wasn't caused by the fact that he just got married nor was it because he was anticipating the wedding night. He was smiling because he didn't drop her. Amanda Jenz-Weasley was thirty-three weeks pregnant.

With a dramatic, if not overly melodramatic, groan, he lay her down on their bed and collapsed next to her.

"If you're going to be that way, Charlie, I'm not even going to entertain the thoughts that have been floating around in your mind all day." Amanda giggled at him as he placed his hand on his heart in shock.

"What? You think I was tired from carrying you? I'm full of unbridled lust for the beautiful woman next to me." Charlie leaned over and softly kissed her mouth, his tongue sliding against her slick lips. It was Amanda's time to moan, and Charlie grinned against her lips. He pulled back and began stroking the rise of her baby bump, which was more like an overly large Quaffle, in Charlie's opinion.

"Ooh! Did you feel that? Look, the baby's shifting from one side to the other. It's amazing, isn't it?" Amanda looked up at him with wide, green eyes, the joy and excitement of impending motherhood evident from the look of sheer bliss radiating off her face.

"You. You're amazing, Mandy." Charlie kissed her again, determined to show her exactly how amazing she was. His hand to her long, brown hair and tangled themselves in her curls, pulling her face closer to his. His breath quickened and he longed to flip her over and take her the way he used to. "Damn you do such wicked things to me." His hand left her hair and he laced his fingers in with hers.

"I know. You do the same to me. But you know what you could really do to make me feel better?"

"What? Anything, you know that." He secretly hoped that she didn't want him to get smoked salmon for her like she did last time. It was tricky enough to track down during most of the year, but in the dead of winter, it was a tad more difficult.

"My feet hurt..."

Before Amanda could finish, Charlie scooted to the end of the bed and lovingly removed her wedding shoes. They didn't have much of a heel, but by the look on her face as her feet were released from the leather, he knew that she'd stood too long that day. Her ankles, which were once a little larger than her wrists, were now swollen and it was difficult to make out the contours of her feet.

"Oh, love, why didn't you sit down more? Your poor feet." Charlie kissed each swollen toe of both of her feet and then took her right foot in his hands and began a slow, sensual massage of her feet. He alternated between kneading them and pressing his thumbs along the ticklish instep. Over the last few months, he'd had a lot of practice and he could do this with his eyes closed. But he couldn't take his eyes off her. As he rubbed, she lay back against the pillows and wore a contented look on her face, eyes closed.

"Mmmmm...that's so good, Charlie." Her eyes opened and locked with hers, making him smile crookedly. "I know what that smile means, you know."

Charlie huffed. "Can't you turn that off? It's really annoying sometimes. Can't even keep a decent secret from you." His voice was laced with laughter, and he hoped she knew he was just giving her a hard time. 

"It does come in handy sometimes, but I haven't even made contact in the last few days." She chuckled. "I know from experience."

Letting go of her feet, Charlie crawled up to her until he was on his hands and knees, looking down at her. "Has it been a good experience?" He saw desire reflected in her eyes and watched, fascinated, as the pupils of her eyes enlarged, indicating her own desire. "I love you, Mandy."

"I love you, too, Charlie...so much."

Hands went to work to undo zippers, buttons, laces and ties and before long, they were both lying naked underneath the fluffy down duvet. They lay on their sides, facing each other, as close as a pregnant belly would allow. One of amanda's hands lay protectively atop her belly, while Charlie idly stroked the roundness created by his growing child. After a few moments, his hands left her pregnant mound for the one between her legs, which he found to be wet, sending up a fragrance he'd never tire of.

"Do you mind?" Before Amanda got pregnant, Charlie was bold enough and confident to touch her like this without asking. But now, so close to delivery, he didn't want to cause her any pain. And the last thing he wanted was to have his child born tonight.

"Go ahead, just not so deep, okay?"

He nodded his head and kept looking at her while his fingers slide tentatively inside her up to the middle knuckle. Anything more, he knew, would be too much. He smiled as he hit her G-spot, as indicated by a quick arch of her back and a low moan he recognized as a good one. Her scent filled him up as she spread her legs wider, giving him more room to work. Her hips began to thrust against his hand and he needed to restrain himself a bit, as he wanted to just pound his fingers into her.

"You want more?" His voice was husky as he spoke and came from deep within his throat. She moaned her answer and Charlie moved his thumb against her clit, massaging it gently and making little circles around it, the way she liked. He got lost in his movements and his mind went blank, his only purpose at the moment to bring her to climax.

After a few more movement of his fingers and thumb, he felt her inner walls begin to shake around him and then a growling noise began to let loose from her throat. Charlie again looked at her face, amazed at the beautiful sight of his wife as she released in pleasure.

"Wow, oh wow..." Amanda panted. "Do...do you think we can, well, er, try that one thing?"

Charlie furrowed his eyebrows at her statement. _What the bloody hell is she on about?_ He was just about to say what was in his thoughts when he finally relazed what she meant. Another goofy smile spread across his face.

"You liked that, did you? Last time, I think you sucked me dry." Charlie began turning himself around so that his feet were at the head of the bed and he lay with his face looking at her midsection. 

Charlie realized that he still had a raging hard-on and surprised himself that he'd been able to hold out for as long as he had. He closed his eyes as he imagined the feel of her lips around his flesh and her tongue flicking around his foreskin and that wonderful suction...

His thoughts were interrupted with the new reality that engulfed his penis. Her hot, wet mouth surrounded him, doing everything he'd just been thinking about. He let our a little whimper and forgot what he was supposed to be doing. He allowed himself to enjoy the feeling of her lips, tongue, teeth and cheeks on his sensitive cock. He moaned as her hands went to cup his balls and then rolling them over her fingers.

She abruptly stopped, pulling her mouth off with a 'pop.' "Um, Charlie, aren't you supposed to be doing something?"

"Oh, uh, sorry. Have I told you how good you are at that?" She chuckled in answer and began teasing him with her tongue.

Lifting her leg onto his shoulder, Charlie scooted toward her and began placing soft kisses along the soft skin of her smooth inner thighs. Her scent filled his nostrils, driving him mad with desire. His tongue delved into her dark curls and touched her clit, making her hiss. She was much more sensitive there these last few months and sex with Amanda was phenomenal of late. Her sex drive was normally high, but a pregnant Amanda is an eternally randy Amanda.

He continued the work on her clit and his hand reached around to slip inside her, tickling her slick muscles, making her moan in pleasure. For a moment, he stopped what he was doing to her, enjoying the sensations of her mouth on him. She quickened her pace, and he did likewise, dipping his tongue inside her, swirling it about. He felt the beginnings of his orgasm start to build and he wanted her to come with him. Charlie placed his mouth on her swollen clit and began sucking, gently at first, and then harder, his fingers quickening in their motion. She began to suck harder on him and with squeeze of her cheeks, he responded in kind on her clit. 

Amanda pulled her mouth off him and let out a scream of pleasure that reverberated through his body, causing him to release himself while he still had his mouth on her. With a heavy sigh, he rolled to his back, still feeling the pulsations of his cock. He looked up at Amanda, still lying on her side, and caught her devious grin.

"What?" Charlie asked, his own grin spreading across his own face.

"You can at least clean me up..." Her finger went to her neck, scooping up some his semen. "That would be the gentlemanly thing to do, right?" The finger went into her mouth and she sucked it clean.

"Damn, woman, I love you," he said before swinging himself around kissing her neck, cleaning her off and becoming hard again. 

"You, my dear, are incorrigible."

"No," he whispered, "just insatiable. For the rest of my life."


	3. Ron--April 2002

_April 2002, Neuschwanstein Castle, Germany_

 

Ron smiles as his hand goes to the small of Hermione's back, hoping that she'd get the hint that it was time to leave. The ceremony had gone without a hitch and Ginny hadn't gone into labor, as many of the guests had thought. She remained her ever hormonal self before, during, and after the ceremony. Poor Harry even resorted to taking her home early. What pleased Ron the most, however, was the fact that no one but him knew where they were going for their honeymoon. Neville did, but he wasn't telling. It was a rare stroke of genius that Ron had asked him to be Secret-Keeper for this. Hermione was a persistent witch and never asked Neville anything.

"So Ron, where are you taking her? Some place without any Quidditch memorabilia I hope," Fred teases.

"Not telling." Ron smiles when Hermione turned into him and wraps her arms around him.

"Not even me?" she teases as she runs her hands over his chest. 

Ron looks down at her and licks his lips at the look in her eyes. Perhaps now was the time to make a graceful exit.

"Well, I think it is time to go, love. They won't wait for us forever."

Hermione looks at him with a confused look and opens her mouth to speak but Ron places his finger on her lips.

"It's time to go." He takes her hand and they make their way toward their parents and say their good-byes, give and receive hugs, and finally leave the confines of the restaurant where the reception was held.

Once outside in the crisp air of the April evening, Ron pulls a picture out from his pocket and shows it to his new wife.

"Do you know what this is?" Her eyes fall to the picture of a castle, one that looks familiar, yet she can't really place it. "This is where we're going. Take hold of it and we'll be there in no time."

"A...a castle? Ron, where are you taking me? My bags...what about my bags?"

"Don't you think I took care of that, Princess?" He playfully teases her by tweaking her nose. "Now come on or we'll be late. Well, later than we are."

Hermione takes hold of the photo in his fingers and the moment her fingers hold it, they are taken across the English countryside, over the English Channel, bypassing the romance of France and into the mountains of Bavaria, where they land outside the famous castle that inspired many a girls' dreams.

"Wha-what's this?" Her eyes begin to tear and Ron pulls her to him, smiling at the look of surprise on her face.

"Neuschwanstein. Sleeping Beauty's castle," he replies, still smiling at the look on her face. "It's all ours for tonight."

"How...Ron?" she manages between sobs.

"All I'm saying is that Quidditch is getting bigger in Germany and the Great Ron Weasley has a bit of clout over here," he teases. She laughs through her tears, and he knows she'll calm down soon.

The large, carved door opens sharply to show a large, burly man dressed in a brocade smoking jacket and corduroy trousers.

_"_ _Herr Weasley? Willkommen in Neuschwanstein. Ich nehme an, dies ist Frau Weasley_?" The man smiles broadly and holds out his hand to Ron.

" _Ja. Vielen Dank für den freundlichen Empfang. Sie sind Franz_?" Ron answers in perfect German. The two men shake hands and then turn to Hermione, who is once again rendered speechless at the actions of her husband.

"Ron? When...when did you learn to speak German?" Her eyes are large and Ron knows that whatever he ends up telling her, she'll not believe it.

_"Es macht Ihnen doch sicher nichts aus, wenn ich den Übersetzungszauber benutze?"_

Franz smiles and answers, " _Wenn Sie mir bitte folgen möchten."_

" _Narro English_!" Ron waves his wand at Franz and then turns to Hermione. " _Narro Germen_!" 

"Now, if you will follow me into the Entrance Hall?" Franz steps aside and motions for them to enter the ornately decorated room. 

Hermione's eyes grew wide as the sound of their shoes echoes through the room while her eyes dart back and forth over the paintings on the walls.

"Your things have already been taken to the king's bedroom and if you like, one of the tour-elves will show you. They are paid, ma'am," Franz adds with a smile. "Your husband told me about your, shall we say, fondness for them? Inken!"

At the sound of the man's voice, a tour-elf appeared, dressed in a native Bavarian costume.

"Herr Franz needed me?" Inken curtsies before bowing low at Franz's feet.

"Please take Herr and Frau Weasley to the king's bedroom. They will be here for the evening. I told you about them, remember?"

"Ja, Herr Franz. Please come, follow me," Inken tells them, motioning for Ron and Hermione to follow her.

As they climbed the stairs, Inken begins prattling on about the history of the castle as if she were leading a tour. Hermione continues to stare, open mouthed, at the marvelous artwork and carvings that surround her, making Ron chuckle under his breath.

Inken stops them outside a large door and turns the doorknob. "Sleep well," she says with a smile before snapping her fingers and disappearing.

"I doubt we'll be doing much sleeping tonight, Princess," Ron says with a leer at her low-cut robes. He bends at the waist and lifts her up into his arms.

"Ron! Put me down!" She's laughing and her protests go unnoticed. As they cross the threshold, the room explodes in muted light and Hermione lets out a gasp. "Oh, Ron, this is..."

"Wow."  
  
They look around the room, taking in the ornately carved wood that took nearly four and one-half years to complete as well as the paintings depicting _Tristan and Isolde_. Still carrying her, Ron strides over to the bed which is nestled into the far corner of the room with rich, blue brocade curtains and coverings. With a gentle kiss on her lips, Ron places her on the duvet.

"Nothing's too good for you," he whispers before leaning down and kissing her again, deeper this time as he pours all his love into that kiss. His tongue engages hers and they begin to suck and stroke each others' mouths, passion increasing with each second that passes.

Hermione begins to unbutton his shirt with shaking fingers. She fumbles a time or two and Ron reluctantly pulls away from her to remove it on his own. Once his chest is bare, her fingers rake through the spattering of ginger hair that encircle his nipples and lead to a path that she knows leads to much pleasure. Her eyes meet his and she smiles, anticipation building inside both of them.

"Sit up," he tells her. She raises herself up and she is even with his glorious face. "Unbutton your robes."

Ron watches as her fingers go to the front of her silk robes and begin to work on the small buttons that grace the bodice. He fights the urge to rip them open himself and licks his lips as bits of flesh are revealed to him. As her hands reach the waist, he loses control and pushes her back down, finishing the job she started. Once she is completely open to him, he places his hands on the smooth plane of her stomach and moves outward to her hips, up her sides and to the rounded mounds of her breasts.

"Ron..." she moans, arching her back into his large hands. "Mouth...put your mouth on me."

"Anything you wish." 

He leans forward with another smile and pulls one rosy nipple into his mouth, bringing forth another sexy moan from her. His tongue runs over the hard peak before sucking it into his mouth. He's always loved her breasts and her flavour is familiar yet new each time he tastes her body. Making love to Hermione is never stale; the way their bodies meld together brings them to new and exciting heights.

With a practiced hand, he begins to pull at her undergarments and stockings, tugging them over her hips and down her legs. She helps him by kicking them onto the floor that held her interest mere minutes ago. But now, all that matters is the joining that is to come.

"Please, Ron," she begs, squirming under him.

"This is for you, remember?" 

He kisses her mouth again as one hand moves between her legs into the moistness of her sex, inserting two fingers inside her. Again, she moans into his lips and holds him closer. He continues to work her body with his fingers when she grips his hair in her fists. 

_Perhaps a change in tactics is needed._

Slowly, he slides his body down hers until he is aligned between her thighs.

"Oh, Ron...oh, Merlin," she pants, the words encouraging him to continue.

"You love this, I know you do." He places his lips on the dark curls and kisses her mound softly before his tongue sneaks out and lightly touches her clitoris. He works his tongue around the little nub while she writhes and moans in that sexy way that turns him on more than anything. 

With a smirk on his lips, Ron looks up at Hermione to find her eyes closed, her head thrown back in ecstasy and her cheeks flushed with desire. He knows she is close, years of experience with her had taught him that. Licking his lips, he makes a pass with his tongue over the slick skin, licking her up and down, side to side like his favourite ice cream cone. Paired with the caresses of one hand on her breasts and fingers of the other inside her, Ron brings her to the edge and over it with a scream that echoes in the bedchamber of the young King Ludwig II.

Without hesitation and another word, Ron unbuckles his belt and then removes his trousers and underwear, freeing his throbbing erection which had been straining inside the confines of his clothing for the past thirty minutes. He moves himself up, hovering above her, his lips a mere breath away from hers. He watches as she opens her eyes and continues to pant from her climax.

"I love you, Hermione. None before and none after."

"Ron...this is the most wonderful night of my life."

"And it's just the beginning..."

With a quick thrust of his hips, Ron slides inside his wife's body and feels as if it's the first time he's been there. The sensations of their loving quickly build, along with the tempo of his thrusts and the lift of her hips. Indistinguishable moans, dirty words and loving whispers come from both their mouths between kisses that go on and on.

She scratches his back with her fingernails as she holds him close and tightens her thighs around his hips. He tears his mouth from hers and lifts himself up on his elbows, filling her deeper and changing the angle while he watches her eyes dilate as she builds toward her second orgasm. Her reaction spurs him on to speed up his thrusts and he is rewarded with her screams.

"Ron, oh...YES!" 

At that, he allows his mental control to stop, his body takes over and pushes himself harder and faster, bracing himself against the carved walls that surround the bed until he himself releases himself into her, groaning as his body pulses in satisfaction and falls to her side.

Her arms tighten around him, surrounding him with her warmth. She kisses his forehead, which is damp with perspiration, and pulls his chin up so she can look him in the eye.

"You are wonderful, my love. This castle, this..." She gestures at the two of them lying together. "There's only one thing that would make this night more enjoyable..."

Hermione leans in to whisper in his ear what she'd like to do, making Ron chuckle as he rolls onto his back, tossing the covers off his body.

"As you wish..."


	4. Fred--Autumn 2003

_Autumn 2003, Room 652, Balmoral Hotel, Edinburgh  
_

 

"Turn the damned card around!" 

"Which way? I turned it already!" He stopped groping her long enough to fumble with the keycard once again.

"Damn it, Fred, just let me do it!" Angelina grabbed the card, turned the magnetic strip toward the door and slid it through, making the ever-elusive green light show up. With a turn of the handle, the door opened and they stumbled inside, mouths immediately finding the others and hands frantically trying to remove clothing.

"Oh, fuck, Angie, I want you so bad." His mouth went to her neck and kissed and sucked his way down to her now exposed breasts, pulling a dark nipple into his mouth.

"Harder...suck harder! Oooooh, yeah! Bite me!"

Fred bent his legs to lower her onto the floor to comply with her wishes. He took her flesh in his mouth and bit down on her, making her groan and sending pints of blood into his throbbing cock.

Fred had always loved the fact that Angelina was a bit kinky. She liked to have him bite her and leave hickeys all over her body. She even liked to have him fuck her up the arse. They'd been having sex since the Yule Ball in their sixth year. Their first time wasn't miraculous or anything, but they manage to do it three times in a carriage without Snape finding them, thanks to Harry's Invisibility Cloak and extra cushioning charms on the shock absorbers. Since the, they'd had a fondness for small, cramped places, and Angelina's flexibility was definitely a plus.

As Fred bit and sucked his way down her body, Angelina banished their clothing and they lay on the floor, wrapped up in each other's naked limbs. When he reached the tight black hairs between her legs, she moaned and wrapped her strong thighs around his neck, burying his lips in her cunt. His mouth moved feverishly over her and his tongue circled her clit slowly, then quickly.

"Don't tease me, you mother fucker!" Angelina flipped him over onto his back and stood over him, one leg on each side of his body. Her eyes traveled down to his erection which made him wince and the thought of waiting any longer to have her.

Fred had foolishly allowed Helena Johnson, Angelina's mother, to take her to the Riviera for a quick retreat before the wedding, along with the bridesmaids. When they returned five days before the wedding, Helena had insisted that Angelina remain in her childhood home. Fred could never remember being so sexually frustrated in all his life. Apparating to see Angie was out of the question as her parents had placed strong anti-Apparation wards around their property. Needless to say, Fred's hands were rather busy the last few days.

"Bed, Weasley!" she ordered, her arm outstretched toward the bed behind him.

Fuck, he loved it when she was like this!!

Fred crab-walked backwards until he hit the side of the bed. He made his way onto the mattress, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Spread 'em!"

His eyes widened and he responded by placing his arms above him and pointing each foot to a corner. He knew what was coming and he liked it.

With her wand drawn, Angelina pointed at Fred's feet and white silken ropes bound his feet to the footboard. The same type of ropes fastened his wrists to the headboard. He was completely at her mercy and he was achingly hard for her.

Without a word, Angelina straddled him and took one of his nipples into her mouth, nipping at it with her teeth. He hissed in pleasure. She moved to the other one and gave it the same treatment, making him shout as she bit down on him.

"Oh, we'll have none of that!" Before Fred could protest, she waved her wand and silenced him. "And just for good measure..." she said, blindfolding him.

Fred wanted to groan but couldn't. She was turning him on more than anything he'd ever experienced. His mind was swimming with the possibilities and he knew that whatever she did would completely blow his mind.

Her mouth went to his chest, taking one nipple in her mouth, sucking on it hard and Fred knew instinctively that he'd have a mark when she was through. She withdrew her mouth from his chest with a pop and began kissing her way down his body, stopping along the way to bite his other nipple, dragging her tongue along his stomach and placing kisses here and there.

He opened his mouth to say 'fuck,' but nothing came out of course.

"Freddie, do you want more?" she teased with her tongue in his ear. He nodded his head vehemently. Angelina swirled her hips over his rock-hard cock, putting her moisture on him before he felt her slide down and off him. He missed the pressure of her body on his, but was soon rewarded with her tantalizing mouth on him. He could imagine her licking up her own juices and he moaned silently at the thought.

She got off the bed and he thrashed against his bindings. The bed shook underneath him as he furiously tried to get loose. Fear took over as he tossed his head from side to side, fearful that she'd left him alone and would do something utterly embarrassing to him, like take a picture of him in this state and send it to George, or worse, his mother.

Thankfully, her weight returned to the bed and she began nibbling on his ear and dipping her tongue inside. Her hot, moist breath engulfed his ear and he moaned silently again. She was torturing him again and he loved it!

"Remember this?"

Fred felt something cool and flexible fall against his thigh. She flopped it against his skin once more and realization flashed through his mind. _Oh Merlin, this was going to be hot_. Something cold and gooey landed on his arse and his thoughts were confirmed as the dildo was slid into his butthole. He wanted to groan. He wanted to take her in his arms and fuck the hell out of her. But all he could do was listen and feel what she was doing to him.

"Oh, you're so damned hard, Weasley," she said huskily. She took his cock into her hand and began pulling on him, making him harder in the process. Fred arched his back as he felt the gel being dripped down the side of the tip of his penis. "Now loverboy, I'm gonna ride you two ways...remember that?"

He did and he couldn't stop the pull on the bed from his struggling, the tossing of his head from side to side, and the quick pull of his ankles as he anticipated what was to come.

Angelina took hold of his throbbing cock and continued her massage with her hand coated in the lubricant. He felt a light movement of the dildo and some weight settling down on him. She was on the other end of the dildo. Just knowing that was enough to make him come, but thankfully, he didn't. Then with another movement, he was inside her. 

This was sheer torture, not being able to touch her the way he wanted, to see his cock inside her and see how her head would throw back in passion as she neared her climax. But all he was able to do was thrust his hips up against her, feeling his cock slide in and out of her hot, tight body and the slickness of the dildo pushing against the tight muscle of his arse. If he could see anything, he knew that her breasts would be bobbing up and down, her hair would be sticking against her temples, and just maybe, her fingers would be rubbing against her clit. He continued to imagine her hands pinching her nipples, making them hard, her hips rocking back and forth against him.

The up and down motion became unbearable as he felt both her muscles and his own start to twitch. With a hard thrust of his hips, he exploded into her. She screamed loud enough for the both of them and he relished the feel of her cunt squeezing him, milking him dry. 

She fell atop him and felt himself slide out of her while the dildo remained inside him. Both of them continued to pant, attempting to catch their breath. Oh, how he longed to wrap his arms around her and hold her close to him, caressing her smooth skin and tasting its saltiness. He tried to whimper, moan, anything to tell her to release him. But nothing worked. He silently cursed the bindings and the spells that kept him from being the tender, attentive lover he knew that she needed at this moment.

With a soft whisper, she released the spells and his arms automatically went round her body, despite the aches and pains that shot through his nerve endings as he moved. He opened his eyes, temporarily blinded by the sudden light before him and moved his head to the side and placed a light kiss on her cheek.

"I love you, Angie," he whispered, his voice strong and full of emotion. Merlin, he loved this woman, and it was just unbelievable that she was his, forever. She deserved everything he could give her and he was bound and determined to show her. "And now, this one's for you..."


	5. George--May 2004

_May 2004, a bed and breakfast in Ireland_

 

George looked around the room and smiled. It was perfect. Candles. Roses. Soft music playing the background. Deep red rose petals scattered about the bed. He bit his lower lip, trying to think if he'd left anything out. After mentally ticking off the list of things he had planned, he was finally satisfied that everything was just right. He let out a heavy sigh and sunk onto the cushy armchair that flanked the fireplace of the cozy room. The only thing he needed now was Gwen.

Gwen. His wife. He'd never thought he'd find someone that understood him the way she did. She was a twin as well, and it was almost like they were cut from the same cloth. Both of them were the more serious twin and were closet romantics at heart. Gwen loved to laugh, but never at people-always with them, the way he did. 

Fred had thought that he and Gwen were an odd match and had a difficult time understanding how George could find her attractive. Gwen wasn't athletic like Angelina; she was drop-dead gorgeous like Fleur; she wasn't willowy like Amanda and wasn't all that bright like Hermione. Gwen had dark blonde hair that she wore short, with some added curl that she called a permanent. She was more like his mum. She was soft and curvy with thighs that just begged to be wrapped around his middle and her breasts, well, her breasts were just...like pillows. He loved to cuddle up next to her and lay his head on her breasts. It was that feeling that always helped him conjure his Patronus.

George had to smile as he thought of the first time they met. Gwen, obviously, was a Muggle and he couldn't help but fall in love with her the first time he saw her wandering along Charing Cross near the Leaky Cauldron, soaking wet in the sudden thunderstorm that shocked London. He offered her the umbrella he'd conjured behind his back and ended up walking with her to a bus stop.

"I have to wait for the Night Bus."

"Really? How often to do take it?"

"Almost every night. I live out a ways."

"So you must know Stan well then?"

"Stan? I don't get too friendly the drivers."

"Oh, he's not the driver. Ernie is driver for the Knight Bus. Stan just talks a lot. Once you've met Stan, you'll never forget him."

"Oh, here it comes."

"That's not the Knight...oh, sorry. I...I was thinking of a different bus route. Sorry."

"No worries. Er, can...can I call you sometime, George?"

"Uh, yeah. But I'm usually at work and, well, they don't allow personal phone calls. Why don't I get your number? I promise I'll call."

And he did. 

George spent nearly every free moment with her and called her every night. When he knew it was love, the kind of love everyone yearns for, he had to tell her about magic. That scared him more than meeting her parents or going on a double-date with Ron and Hermione. She took it pretty well and only stayed away from him for three days. Once she'd accepted it, they became inseparable. And now, they were married.

_Married. Me, George Weasley. Unbelievable._

The door swung open and Gwen stepped into the room wearing a long white, satin nightdress that revealed her voluptuous curves and ample breasts quite nicely. She smiled brightly at him and walked over to the chair he was sitting in, settling herself on his lap, effectively pressing his growing erection against her round backside.

"Did you do all this?' she asked, referring to the atmosphere of the room. 

"Yep. Nothing a little magic couldn't take care of." He nibbled her earlobe while his hand idly stroked her breast. She moaned in response. 

"I'd rather make my own magic." Her husky whisper filled him with desire and wiped any coherent thought from his mind. She turned her head and soon they were kissing each other deeply, tongues sliding against the other and hands stroking the exposed flesh of their arms and shoulders.

Believe it or not, but George and Gwen had never made love before. Oh, they'd had plenty of opportunity, but she still lived with her parents up until today and George didn't want them to have anything else to hold against him. They'd had a difficult enough time accepting the fact that their daughter was marrying a wizard.

"George..." she moaned into his mouth. "I love you."

"I know you do. I love you, too."

"I'm ready, George," she whispered plainly.

He made to stand up and take her to the bed but she stopped him. He looked at her and found her blushing.

"I'm fine right here." 

George lifted his eyes to hers and found them dark with desire as he'd never seen them before. 

"Here?" The idea rather intrigued him, he had to admit. 

"Here." She stood up and pressed his naked chest back into the chair. With their eyes locked on one another, she lifted the shiny fabric over her head and stood before him unashamed. 

George smiled as his eyes journeyed over her body. Her full breasts were topped with hardened nipples that drove him mad with lust. A gasp escaped his lips as her hands went to those breasts and began kneading them in earnest. His eyes went down to her stomach, something she rarely showed anyone. Her body wasn't perfect by most standards, but it was perfect for him. He continued to watch the rise and fall of her chest and stomach as she breathed while he reached out and moved his hand across her navel, enjoying the texture of her smooth skin and the soft swells he'd been itching to touch for months. 

He leaned forward in the chair and lovingly kissed her navel and pulled her hips to him as her hands fisted his hair. He could smell how much she wanted him and he couldn't hold back the swear words that escaped his mouth. He continued to massage her bum, savouring the fullness of each cheek, not caring that there were dimples or that she hated her arse. One hand slipped around to the front of her and made its way to her sex where he cupped it with his hand, bringing forth yet another moan from her.

"George..."

He looked up and saw her above him, head thrown back, eyes closed and mouth open. She looked damned hot and he knew he had to do something. So he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the light brown curls between her legs, while his right arm lifted her left leg over her shoulder, bringing her closer to his mouth. They moaned in unison and his left hand parted her folds and his tongue began flicking her clit lightly.

Gwen pulled at his hair, nearly yanking out handfuls of it. He didn't care. He was too busy lapping up the juices that coated her to care much about his hair. One of his fingers slipped inside and moved about, tickling her inside and making her moan heartily. He continued to move his fingers inside her while his tongue and lips went to work on the outside of her sex. She trembled as she stood against him, silently telling him she was about experience bliss.

"Ah...ah...God DAMNit, George! Holy shit...oh hell!" she screamed at him, her hands now holding onto his head for support.

He let her body calm and continued to caress her body as she came down from her climax. Knowing that he couldn't hold out much longer, George gently lowered her leg from his shoulder and stood up, his hands going to the boxer shorts he wore and swiftly pushed them down to the floor before sitting back down with his legs spread wide.

"You said you wanted to do it on the chair," he reminded her.

Gwen said nothing as she moved toward the chair and grasped his upright cock, trying to find the best place to position herself. She moved to sit on him and he held her hips just above his throbbing manhood, centered right below her.

"I don't want to hurt you."

"You will...it's alright, George." Before he could say another word, she impaled herself with his cock and let out a small shriek, that made his heart ache. "Don't you dare apologize, George Weasley! I'm gonna fuck you until your prick hurts from coming so hard.

"Damn, I love you." George closed his eyes and felt her undulating body move over his in timid thrusts. She swirled her hips one way, and then the other, nearly lifting off him completely before slamming back down onto him. He'd never felt anything like this in his life.

"Open your eyes," she ordered with a soft, strong voice. "I want you to look at me when I fuck you."

His eyes fluttered open and he stared at her, dumbfounded at the sight in front of him. One of her hands was on her breast, kneading it in the same fashion she'd done before. Her fingers pinched the nipples and she whimpered at the pain/pleasure he was sure she was experiencing. Her other hand, he discovered, was buried between her thighs, no doubt diddling her clit. The image she presented him caused him to moan and lean back in the chair, letting her continue riding him, bringing him ever closer to the brink of madness that she teased him toward.

The speed of her rhythm increased and soon their moans mingled with the other's. George felt the tingles starting at the base of his spine and quickly spread to the rest of his body. His hands flew to her hips and held her tight against him, thrusting hard up into her while he pumped every last bit of him into her. With a scream, her walls tightened around him, making the pulsations of his climax linger just a bit longer.

With a final 'oh,' she fell atop him and buried her face in his neck, the only sound from either of them was heavy breathing. George could have stayed like that forever except for the ache that was starting in his neck. 

"Oh...my...God," Gwen huffed between kisses to his chest. "I've never felt anything like that before. Thank you."

He had to chuckle a bit at her remark. " _You_ are the one who needs thanking, love." He chuckled again and playfully swatted her bum, causing her to yelp. 

"George! What was that for?" She sat back from him and the motion pressed her hips into his once again. "You are just full of surprises, aren't you?"

"Never a dull moment with a Weasley."

"Thank God..."


	6. Percy--Late 2006

_L_ _ate 2006, an inn near London_

 

The room is large, with a plate glass window to the left, allowing in the light of the moon and the city lights, a stark contrast to the darkness of the room. With the flick of a wand and a whispered, "Lumos," the room comes alive in muted light, casting a romantic glow about the room. Straight ahead is a very large bed with gossamer curtains attached to the four posts and several plush pillows that invite them to partake of their luxuriousness. 

"Oh, this is lovely," Charlotte whispers, turning to her new husband. She smiles shyly at him, noticing the nervousness, if not anxiousness, behind his glasses.

"I'm glad you like it," he replies softly, as his arms begin to glide up the silky softness of her sleeves. His eyes take in the slight flush of her cheeks, and he knows that his are the same.

Without thinking, without planning, as is his usual fashion, Percy leans in and kisses her full on the lips, eliciting a soft moan from her throat. His hands fall to her waist and he pulls her close, her body touching his along the front. Their tongues begin to caress the other's and this time, it is he that moans. Percy tries to reign in his desire but fails as he begins to unbutton the back of her robes, slipping his hands inside to touch the cool skin underneath.

"Percy," she whispers, bringing her hands up to cup his cheeks.

He opens his eyes to meet hers, sensing her own desire, bubbling just under the surface. They'd been so restrained until now, both of them wanting to wait until this moment to consummate their relationship.

"I...I'm so sorry."

"No, don't be. I'm excited, too." Her hand slides into his hair and she runs her fingers through his mass of curls before pulling him in for another deep kiss.

When they finally pull apart from one another, breathless, her robes are off her shoulders, gathered in the crook of her elbows while his black velvet ones lay pooled at his feet.

"Let's change," he simply states, his eyes not leaving hers. She nods and steps away from him, reaching for her valise. 

"I'll be back," she teases with a coy smile before disappearing behind the bathroom door.

Once the door closes, Percy walks to the cushioned bench at the foot of the bed and begins to remove his shirt and slacks, folding them neatly before placing them on the bench next to him. With a whisper, he summons the silk dressing gown from his own valise and strips off his remaining clothing until he stands naked, bathed in the glow of candles and moonlight. The dressing gown soon covers his shoulders and the sash tied. Percy then anxiously sits on the bench with his hands on his lap, contemplating this first night of marriage.

Percy was a mess of nerves and it all came down to one thing. At the ripe old age of thirty, Percy Weasley is still a virgin. Many people, including members of his own family, had wrongfully assumed that he and Charlotte had been intimate. This was, after all, her second marriage, and Charlotte was a thoroughly modern witch. But the two of them had decided early on to reserve that part of their relationship for later. Both of them, of course, had times where they would have wished to take things further, but at least one of them was able to keep their wits about them.

Percy had met Charlotte shortly after the war, when she was in the Ministry morgue to identify the body of her husband. Timothy Jones had been killed in a fierce battle shortly before Harry's defeat of Voldemort. Timothy and Charlotte had only been married three months when he was killed and she'd been broken-hearted when she showed up. Percy was there to complete the paperwork on his case and ended up consoling the new widow. After that first meeting, they'd met by chance a few times, and from those brief moments, a friendship grew and over the next year or so, a love that neither of them had expected, yet cherished as it grew in intensity.

The opening of the bathroom door causes Percy to look up and there, silhouetted in the light from behind her, Charlotte stands, her body draped in a light blue, nearly-see through negligee. He swallows hard and continues to look up at her. He can't help but stare. She is beautiful. Charlotte smiles and silently makes her way across to where Percy sits until she is in front of him, drawing his gaze up to her face.

"I love you, Char," he murmurs as he pulls her belly to his face and kisses her stomach, running his hands over the swell of her hips and the roundness of her backside. "So beautiful..."

Percy tugs her onto his lap so she straddles him and kisses her, his lips parting hers until their tongues are engaged once more. Percy feels the desire begin to build inside him and he grinds his hips up into hers. There is an unknown abandon to their actions as they both frantically fumble with strings and sashes and flimsy material until they are both sitting on the bench, naked as the day they were born.

With a great amount of effort, Percy pulls away from her. "Let me look at you."

He stands them up and looks into Charlotte's hazel eyes, seeing so much love there that it hurt. He raises his hand to her face and pushes back the hair from her face as he begins his visual journey. 

Her lips are full and wine-colored from their kisses and her cheeks are flushed with desire. He can't help but smile at the thought that he is the one who put it there. His hands go to her naked shoulders, the texture of her skin so smooth, almost like melted chocolate, that he thought the feel of it alone is ecstasy. Down, his hands slid until they reach her breasts. With a hard, deliberate swallow, his eyes travel down while his hands and fingers toy with the rounded flesh. He watches with interest as the nipples harden into rock-hard peaks.

"Oh..." she moans while her head lolls backwards and exposing her long neck to him. "Per-cy..."

The sound of his name on her lips shoots straight to his loins and is his undoing. Holding her close, he kisses her once again as he holds her to him and lays her down on her back upon the plush carpet of the hotel room until he kneels between her thighs, his mouth never leaving hers. Charlotte's hands begin kneading at the muscles of his back while her legs snake around his waist. Their close proximity causes him to feel the wetness of her arousal with the tip of his penis. It is that very sensation that causes him to panic.

"Ch-Charlotte! I...please!" he begs, wanting to please her while at the same time struggling to maintain some semblance of control.

"Percy....it's okay. Shhh...I want you, love, and I think we've waited long enough." Her hand goes to the back of his head and pulls him in for a kiss while her other hand aligns Percy's stiff cock with her waiting body. "It's going to be wonderful."

With a movement of his hips, he sinks inside her, his eyes rolling back in his head as he is swept along by the strength of her inner muscles and instinct takes over. His thrusts are inexperienced, but Charlotte coos words of encouragement and love to him, whispering breathily into his ear. A tingling starts working its way up from his toes until it reaches the base of his spine and he knows there is little time left.

"Are...are you...?" Percy cannot continue as Charlotte begins to squeeze herself around him like a fluttering butterfly before screaming out his name and tightening her grip on him. With his own guttural scream, he empties himself inside her, panting her name over and over until he rolls to the side with his body still inside hers.

"Oh, Merlin..." Percy breathes into her neck and gently kisses her throat while he strokes her hip. "We're on the floor..." He begins laughing at the remark and rolls over with her on top of him, still holding her as close as possible.

"Mmm hmmm..." Charlotte rolls her hips against his, making Percy twinge in new pleasure. "And just think, this is only the beginning."


End file.
